


The Hannibal Incident

by BrokenBones (Hikarinimichitasora)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, isn't actually character death, seems like character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikarinimichitasora/pseuds/BrokenBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their relationship deteriorated, Jim and Bones lived their lives apart for five years. But when Jim gets a message to say that Joanna has died, he soon becomes embroiled in politics, mystery and intrigue. And he has to do it all while trying to work out just what he and Bones are to each other now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Obituary

The call came in at 2108 on Stardate 2269.65. It was sent straight to Captain Kirk’s personal communications folder. It was not logged through any official channels. It contained a few simple words, nothing long or poetic. It caused Captain James Tiberius Kirk to abandon his mission immediately to head to the Federation outpost on Gideon, where amongst nearly 20 billion inhabitants, he tried to track down just one man.

That man’s name was Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy.

Needless to say, even in a planet as overpopulated as Gideon, where finding one man is near on impossible without a direct address, Captain Kirk found him.

* * *

 

_Treadway, Joanna. Pronounced Dead. Stardate 2269.64. Aged 23 years. Beloved daughter of Jocelyn Treadway and Dr. Leonard McCoy. Sadly missed by stepfather Clay Treadway, family and friends. Memorial service at Andersonville National Cemetery at 1:45 local time._

* * *

 

He found McCoy in a bar. A dive bar in a part of town where people lived on top of people, thirty, forty to every small house. The bar was cramped, barely room to stand and yet Jim pushed through.

Uhura and Spock hung back behind him, understanding without having to be told that this was not their conversation to have. Not yet. They would have time to pass on their condolences later, but now, this moment, this was one that Jim had to do alone.

He owed McCoy that much.

McCoy had just finished his drink, ice at the bottom of his glass, when Jim drew level with him. McCoy didn’t even acknowledge him at first, swirling ice cubes for a moment before ordering another drink and telling the barman to leave the bottle. The barman produced an extra glass for Jim and Jim knew McCoy must have realised he was there.

"Bones-" he began, getting ready to launch into his pre-prepared speech about loss and how he was going to be there for his friend, orders be damned, but McCoy fixed him with a stare that showed he didn’t want Jim to finish that sentence.

"Drink up," McCoy said instead, pouring a healthy amount of whiskey into Jim’s glass. Whiskey, not bourbon. It tasted rough and cheap as it went down. This wasn’t to be enjoyed, it was to be suffered through. To burn and sting and make the eyes water so that if a tear was shed, it could be blamed on the jagged edges of alcohol rather than the jagged edges of those that drank it.

"Bones-" Jim tried again, putting his glass down. McCoy turned to him finally and Jim could see he was a mess. It didn’t look to be a recent thing either. McCoy had lost muscle since the Enterprise, and that was more than a day’s stubble on his chin. His hair was mussed, greasy, and his shirt had creases on it that showed it hadn’t been removed any time recently.

McCoy had obviously been low for a while.

"Why’re ya here Jim?" McCoy’s Georgia dialect was full force, slurred with alcohol and grief. "Thought I’d made it pretty clear that when you stepped out that door I didn’t want to see your goddamn face again."

Jim swallowed. It would have been easy to rise to it. To get angry. McCoy obviously wanted a fight. Wanted to channel his anger and Jim, well, he was an easy target. He could let McCoy pummel him into the bar, bust his face up on his knuckles and break a few bones.

But it wouldn’t make either of them feel better about this.

"I don’t care about any of that. It’s past," Jim said, pouring himself more whiskey and necking it, grimacing. "I’m here because I don’t want you to go through this alone."

"Funny coming from you," McCoy hissed, but Jim didn’t meet his eyes. He saw the fight go out of him almost immediately.

"Did you know it was coming?" Jim asked, wondering if Joanna had been sick and McCoy had just never informed him. It would have been odd for him not to have known though. McCoy still communicated fairly regularly with other members of the Enterprise. He’d surely have mentioned to them if Joanna was sick.

"No. Goddamnit, Jim, there ain’t even a body to bury," McCoy choked out. He threw back the glass and slammed it back onto the bar. "She’s somewhere out there, floatin’ lost in space. Goddamn pirates attacked the Hannibal just off Corinth IV. Nothing was retrieved, not even the ship. Just blipped out of existence."

Jim wanted to reach out, wanted to touch McCoy’s shoulder, to show he was there even if he was the last one that McCoy wanted to see right now. But McCoy was giving off strong ‘don’t even look at me right now’ vibes and Jim lacked the courage to close the distance between them.

Once it had been so easy. If Bones was hurting he’d run a hand over the other’s shoulders, hook it around his neck, pull Bones against his chest so he could feel his breath against his collarbone. He’d thread fingers through Bones’ hair, press kisses to his temple, reassure Bones that it was alright that it would be okay and that whatever it was they’d get through it.

But this wasn’t something Bones would get through. This was something that happened to him. That changed him. Joanna was gone. Bones had always identified himself as a doctor, a divorcee, and a father and that part of him had been torn away.

"I’m sorry," Jim said, and he knew it wasn’t enough. He’d heard it plenty of times from others about his father, about Pike, about crewmen whose faces now blurred in Jim’s mind. Apologies for things that no one could have prevented. What was the point in that?

"You shouldn’t have come Jim," McCoy said gruffly. He rubbed at his eyes, knuckles digging in hard enough that Jim wondered if he were trying to scrub the memories of Joanna’s death from his brain.

"But I’m glad… I’m glad you did."

* * *

 

McCoy owned an apartment in the city. It was a measly one room, everything included, kind of place and Jim refused to let him go back to it. It was that way that McCoy found himself on the Enterprise, standing under her bright lumescence and staring with the eyes of a man who wasn’t really seeing anything.

M’Benga and Chapel were there immediately. Jim let them escort McCoy away. To be rehydrated. To be shot full of hangover cure. To be scrubbed and shaved and given a new uniform.

Spock caught up with him as he began to make his way toward the Bridge. An insistent hand on his elbow turned him and he stared at the Vulcan’s dark, unreadable eyes. Spock understood loss, understood the emotional impact on a human psyche, even if he didn’t full experience it the same way. When Spock had told McCoy he was sorry for the Doctor’s loss, Jim didn’t doubt that Spock had truly meant it.

"There’s something you should see," Spock said, holding out a PADD. "I didn’t want to interrupt you on Gideon, Captain, but Giotto sent this down to us after we beamed down. I had ordered him to research Joanna Treadway’s death."

Jim frowned and took the PADD, entering in his security clearance to get the screen to unlock. Spock’s face was impassive.

"I thought, if we knew the details without having to ask Doctor McCoy, it might enable us to be better at comforting him. But it seems that Lieutenant Giotto found something I had not anticipated," Spock continued. Jim frowned and began to sift through the files before him.

Star maps, coordinates, supply ship itineraries for the area, a vast swathe of different information and most of it irrelevant. And then Jim saw it. It jumped out from the page, an anomaly. Something that might be nothing. The gleaming saucer, the three sets of phaser banks, the photorp tubes. Even deflector shields. For whatever reason, Joanna hadn’t been on an ordinary ship. She’d been on a destroyer.

"She was on a Saladin-class vessel? Why?" he asked. Spock quirked his eyebrow upwards.

"Indeed, I too would like to know that. However, I lack the appropriate clearance to access any files on the USS Hannibal," Spock replied. Jim frowned and brought up the Starfleet database. The Hannibal’s captain was a woman named Elaine Navarro. Jim had met her a few times at head quarters. He had always gathered that her missions were relatively run of the mill and didn’t require any kind of special clearance to access.

The moment he inputted the Hannibal’s ID code though, the database closed off, citing insufficient access rights. He stared blankly at the PADD for a few moments before he handed it back to Spock.

"Get Chekov on it immediately. And Scotty. Scotty will no doubt have contacts amongst the engineers that last worked on Hannibal. It’s amazing what higher-ups will say around red-shirts when they think they’re busy. If there’s gossip, Scotty will track it down. I want to know what that ship was doing and why Joanna was on it," Jim said. Spock nodded and immediately set off to find Chekov.

Jim looked down the corridor toward Medbay, but he couldn’t force himself to step any further forward. Instead he turned on his heel and went to the Bridge. At least there he could get instant reports from Chekov and Scotty when they unravelled the mystery.

* * *

 

Jim crawled into his bed. He had hoped that there would have been a report from Chekov or Scotty already, but even having pulled a double shift, nothing had come his way. He’d tried to smooth things over with the admiralty, lied about their reason for coming to Gideon when they were meant to be mapping a star system light years away.

If it weren’t for Spock’s careful omissions under the pretense of being unable to lie, Jim thought that he would have ended up being court-martialed. As it was, the admiralty had to accept a barefaced lie and some grey truths from Spock but they were under strict orders to resume their mission.

The Enterprise was now heading at warp speed back to their previous mission with Doctor McCoy onboard. Jim didn’t know if he’d been given the opportunity to beam down and collect his things, he didn’t want to ask in case someone tried to talk to him about why they’d gone out of their way to what essentially amounted to kidnapping the man.

He closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion pulling at him. Behind his eyes, he could replay memories that he’d kept at bay ever since he’d recieved the report. If there was one thing he was good at, it was compartmentalising.

_Joanna had swirled in the dress that Jim had bought her. An actual princess dress from a planet so far away that Joanna would likely never see it. She giggled and laughed and curtsied to an imaginary prince._

_Jim looked to her father, saw Bones totally besotted by his daughter, and couldn’t help but smile himself. It had been too long since they’d put the Enterprise into the lunar docks and hopped on down to visit. Joanna must have grown a clear foot in the time they’d been away. It was a wonder that the dress even fit her._

_Joanna was older now, an awkward early teen, staring at her father with resentful eyes. He’d missed something important to her. Jim couldn’t even remember what it had been now. He’d stood outside the door, unwilling to go inside, while Bones dealt with accusation after accusation. The curse of the absent father. Jim had felt cowardly for not going in and afterwards had kissed the sorrow and helpless anger from Bones’ shoulders. But it hadn’t been enough._

_Joanna was older again. The body of a woman with a teenager’s reckless will. She refused to speak. Refused to even look. She accepted the gifts from far away planets with a disregard that made Jim’s heart hurt. She’d looked him in the eyes at one point and Jim could see it clear as day. She blamed him for her father’s absence. Blamed him for Bones not being there._

_Time wore on and Jim realised that Joanna wasn’t alone in that blame. Sure, Bones kept a portion of the blame for himself, but he rested some at Jim’s feet. The resentment there, the building anger, the long periods of silence between them that no amount of alcohol or sex could break through._

_One day turning up to the Treadway’s house and Joanna not even being there. She’d moved out, gone to Atlanta and not even told her father she’d changed address. Ignoring communications, ignoring transmissions, parcels returning unopened with ‘not at this address’ scrawled across them in thick, black marker._

_The argument, fierce, desperate, consuming, that followed. The need to escape. The feeling of cowardice, of self-hatred, of blame that had felt like they were going to set him aflame. He had heard Bones say that if he stepped out, it was over, but he hadn’t believed, not truly. Within an hour there had been a transfer request on his desk, within two it had been signed and McCoy had left the service of the Enterprise in less than a week._

Jim heard the door to his quarters open. He propped himself up, squinting through the dark to see who was backlit against the door.

"You haven’t changed your passcode in all this time, Jim? Careless of you," McCoy said softly and Jim relaxed back into the bed, keeping his eyes open and his thoughts firmly on the present.

"Only ever told it to one person and they already had a physician’s override anyway," he replied, shrugging. McCoy made a noise in his throat and then he leaned down. Jim guessed he was removing his shoes. A few moments later McCoy was sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"M’Benga’s in my old quarters. I have a choice of sleeping in Medbay amongst sick people, or finding an officer with space to take me in. Figured it’d be weird staying with Spock or Uhura," McCoy said quietly. Jim made a noise in the back of his throat. He guessed that was McCoy’s way of asking for permission, but he couldn’t bring himself to say yes or no to the man.

"You mean both Spock and Uhura said no, don’t you?" he asked, hedging for time. McCoy didn’t laugh. He did drop down onto the bed though. His back to Jim, lying on his side with no contact to the other whatsoever.

"Neither of them would be so tactless," he replied. Jim didn’t say anything more.

Silence came between them. A wall that had never existed before erected between their bodies, an iron curtain that couldn’t be breached.

Jim closed his eyes.

_Joanna was singing in a school play. They’d travelled from the academy just to see it. Her voice was childish and undeveloped, she warbled at the high notes, but Jim couldn’t help but laugh when Bones teared up a little at his little girl singing._

_Jocelyn commed them. They were light years away though. Joanna had caught measles. Goddamn measles and why weren’t they completely wiped out yet? It seemed serious, but there was nothing Jim could do. He could hardly turn the Enterprise around for one sick child. Bones had sulked for a few hours before the call came through that Joanna was out of the worst of it and was getting better._

McCoy drew a sharp breath. Jim turned his head. McCoy’s shoulders were shaking. He was curled in on himself as the silent sobs wracked his whole body. It was too much, all of it. There was no way Jim could have stopped himself.

They’d known each other now for almost half of their respective lives. If he couldn’t at least do this, then everything they’d ever had was meaningless.

He wrapped an arm around McCoy’s chest, pulling him back, tucking the covers around him. McCoy struggled at first, but Jim just pulled insistently.

"I don’t want you to go through this alone," Jim whispered, repeating what he’d said before. McCoy sagged against him limply. "You don’t have to like me, you don’t have to talk to me, but don’t come into my room and cry into my pillows and expect me to sit here and pretend it isn’t happening. I’m here for you, Bones. I’m here."

McCoy didn’t say anything. Jim didn’t expect him to. The shaking subsided, giving way to slowed breathing and eventually the soft snores of someone sleeping with a blocked nose. Jim held McCoy against him, remembering all the times he’d used to do this, without the weight of grief and guilt between them.

He’d have rather never seen McCoy again and had Joanna live though, than have this.

* * *

 

"Sir, you should see this."

Scotty’s voice through the communicator was insistent and Jim grimaced. He was warm and felt well-rested for a change. He stretched out, feeling his uniform pulling at his shoulders as he did so. He hadn’t taken it off before bed. Why hadn’t he taken it off?

His eyes shot open.

The other side of the bed was blindingly white in the fake morning sun that his cabin provided. The sheets were rumpled, the only sign someone had slept there. He reached out, placing his palm against the indent in the pillow where McCoy’s head had rested.

"Sir?"

"Give me fifteen to get a shower and I’ll meet you in my ready room," he said.

"Aye aye, sir," Scotty replied before he ended the comm. Jim quickly stripped himself off on the way to the bathroom. He stepped inside to see that McCoy had used one of his towels that morning and thrown it into the laundry hamper. He ran his fingertips over the damp fibres, wondering how it had ever got to a point where a dirty towel was a wondrous thing.

Less then ten minutes passed by the time Jim arrived in his ready room. He wasn’t surprised to see Scotty and Chekov there, though he was more surprised to see Uhura and Sulu. They weren’t supposed to have been clued in on what was going on. Then again, it was hardly surprising. Spock played by the rules, but Jim hadn’t specifically said he wasn’t to tell Uhura. Chekov and Sulu were so close they were practically brothers. Or married. Jim never could quite tell which they were veering towards on any given day.

"Hit me with it then," he said as he walked to his seat. Chekov grimaced a little.

"Sir, it seems that the official records and the ship’s black box don’t match," he said, tapping a few things on his pad before bringing it up on the large screen. On one side was the official report that cited that nothing had been found on the Hannibal, next to it was a series of Starfleet codes that were ripped from the starship’s OS that could tell the story of its systems during the final moments.

"They didn’t activate their shields," Jim said, scanning through it.

"No, they didn’t sir. And they only fired weapons that would do superficial damage. The Hannibal could have easily wiped out the pirate ship if it was the size the scanners indicated," Scotty continued, gesturing to a few lines of code that Jim guessed was probably the weapons diagnostics.

"They underestimated the threat?" Jim asked. It was Uhura who leaned forward this time though.

"Pavel got copies of this from Starfleet databases. However he got it," she said, her tone only mildly disapproving. "But there’s something off about it all. There was no other debris other than the black box entered into Starfleet records. And on top of that, its not even dented. It’s like it was removed."

Jim frowned. “So you’re saying that someone on the Hannibal removed the black box? I didn’t think that was possible? And why would they do it?”

"There are plenty of reasons why you would sir. Especially if you were handing a Federation vessel over to pirates," Scotty said. "Standard procedure when handing over a ship is to make it untraceable after all."

"So we’re saying that Captain Navarro went rogue?" Jim asked, running a hand through his hair. "That wouldn’t explain the cover up by Starfleet though. Last time someone went rogue, they at least called a meeting. There’d be some kind of memo so we could track the Hannibal down. Or at least not think it was friendly if we came across it."

"I think there’s more to it. Joanna is the only person on the ship who we would have considered a civilian. And what’s more, there’s evidence that the Hannibal knew it was going to come across the pirates before it even left the lunar docks," Scotty continued. Jim rubbed at his face.

"So what’s the theory? You’ve got one right?" he asked. Scotty and Pavel shared a look before their mouths set into firm lines.

"We are thinking that the Hannibal was sent by Starfleet to meet with these pirats then - poof - disappear. That means the Hannibal, and its crew, are still out there somewhere. And it also means that Joanna Treadway is trapped on board with mutineers and pirates," Chekov said, jaw clenched. Jim felt his hands clench into fists.

"We’re going to end up being court martialed for this," he said softly. Sulu, who had remained silent until that moment, leaned forward in his chair.

"It’s Doctor McCoy’s daughter. If it were my sister, or Spock’s father, or any other relation, rules be damned I’d want the Enterprise to haul ass out of here and go get them. Give the crew a choice, maroon the ones that don’t want to get on board and let’s hijack the Enterprise and do what’s right, sir," he said. Jim looked around at his crew, his command team, and then nodded.

"I hope we know what we’re doing," he said quietly. Sulu got to his feet.

"I’ll make preparations to pick up the Hannibal’s trail off Corinth IV."

"Just a head’s up guys. Doctor McCoy… do not inform him of why we’re off-course. Not until we know for sure. There’s no point in false hopes," Jim said firmly. Spock and Uhura shared a look, but nodded regardless.

"Then we’re in agreement. Take us to Corinth IV Mr Sulu."


	2. Star Maps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I always knew you were an asshole, Jim Kirk. But I never thought you'd be that much of an asshole to me."

Jim gave Uhura the signal and she quietly turned and jammed the comms system. Nothing could be transmitted or recieved aboard the Enterprise. Spock was carefully running the sensors, making sure that they wouldn't run into any nearby vessels that would try to hail them and recieve silence in return.

 

This wouldn't become a diplomatic incident if Jim could help it. What they were doing was insane, and they were skirting the edges of losing the Enterprise as it was. Even so, if there was a chance that Joanna was out there...

 

Chekov didn't announce a change of course to the rest of the bridge, just silently inputted the new destination and Sulu initiated the warp. Word had got around the crew. A shipwide announcement wasn't possible, especially if McCoy had to be kept in the dark, but all the major players had been informed. Those that ran departments aboard the ship, or those that were most likely to notice that the Enterprise was headed away from its mission parameters.

 

Jim tapped his fingertip against his temple as he sat there. It felt like danger, but not the kind he was used to. He could manipulate, he knew he could, he knew he could lie and cheat, but he wasn't built for espionage. He preferred direct and honest action, and even though he knew he was doing the right thing, doing it this way felt wrong to him.

 

If it hadn't been that Starfleet had repeatedly shown itself to be far from the ideal he had thought, he would have just asked for permission to investigate, beliving that the admiralty couldn't possibly truly know what had occured. Now he knew that the admiralty probably did know, had probably ordered it, and it didn't sit right with him.

 

James Kirk knew that Starfleet needed changing. He'd just hoped he would have been able to do it from the inside.

 

"Captain, Carol Marcus wants to see you. She's in Lab 8," Yeoman Janice Rand stepped onto the bridge. "She said she tried to comm you but communications seem to be down in her laboratory."

 

Jim got to his feet, nodding to Janice. She was relatively new to the Enterprise, although quickly showing her aptitude for life aboard the ship. Sulu in particular had taken a shine to her, though Jim was sure it was in a platonic way.

 

"Thank you Yeoman. Mr Spock, you have the conn," he said before heading to the turbo lift. Laboratory 8 was the electronics lab. Carol had comandeered it for her experiments and when they came across new technology and machine-based lifeforms, they often took them there.

 

Recently Carol had been tinkering with nanites that Jim had a sneaking suspicion he'd seen before. He wasn't too comfortable having them aboard the ship, though Carol assured him they were inert. The memory of taking on The Doctor with Bones did bring a small smile to his face though. It had been a long time since he'd been able to take on an enemy armed with what essentially amounted to a vacuum cleaner.

 

"Doctor Marcus?" he called as he entered the laboratory. The room was dark apart from a star map that was projected onto the wall. Jim swallowed when he saw it was their projected destination. Damn. He'd been hoping she wouldn't notice.

 

"Good of you to join us, Captain," her voice came from the darkness. Jim squinted and made her out in the corner, sitting with her arms and legs crossed, expression cold. Beside her sat McCoy, looking ragged and worn with his hands clenched into fists.

 

"You looking up star systems?" he asked, hoping that he wasn't about to have to come clean already. It was too soon. They didn't have enough evidence yet. He couldn't say anything to Bones, he _wouldn't_.

 

"I'm not stupid. I know how to read a goddamn map, Jim. Why are we off course and heading to that godforsaken edge of space? What have you got in your head?" Bones asked and his speech was strangely slurred. Jim took a few steps forward. The stars were projected across his body as he did so.

 

McCoy's eyes were glassy and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Jim glanced at Carol who made a minute gesture to the hypospray discarded on the surface beside her. A sedative then. Understandable. If Bones had discovered they were headed to Corinth IV, he'd probably become... emotional.

 

"It's just a mission Bones," Jim tried to lie. Carol made a noise in the back of her throat that declared she thought that statement had been a bad idea. McCoy looked too doped up to be angry, though his words were sharp.

 

"Aren' we a little beyond lying to each other by now Jim?" he asked. Jim ran his hands through his hair, trying to think of what to say.

 

"Look, it's just-"

 

"She's _dead_ Jim and you're dragging me over there to see her grave. Is that it? This some kind of twisted counselling or enforced closure?" McCoy continued as though he hadn't wanted Jim to answer the question anyway. There was a spark of anger in his eyes now, something so spiked and cutting that not even the sedative could soften it.

 

"Bones it's not-"

 

"I would have thought you'd stay out of my business seeing as you haven't been part of it for years."

 

"Just listen-"

 

"My daughter is _dead_ Jim and you're plotting a course to the site of her _murder_!"

 

McCoy stood up now and he was swaying. Jim didn't know what to do, what to say. To tell the truth would be to offer hope where there might be none. Lying clearly wasn't working either. It would have been best if Bones had just never found out. It would all have been better that way. Goddamnit why did nothing ever go right?

 

"I'm sorry Bones. I'll explain everything, I promise, but I can't right now," Jim said and it felt like physical pain to utter the words. McCoy gave him a look that made Jim's stomach turn to ice.

 

"I always knew you were an asshole, Jim Kirk. But I never thought you'd be that much of an asshole to _me_."

 

McCoy didn't wait for him to respond. He walked unsteadily out of the laboratory, holding onto the doorframe for a moment to right himself, before the door shut behind him. Carol was glaring at him and Jim didn't know what to do or what to say.

 

He felt anger begin to surge. What right had Carol to interfere in this? Why had she shown Bones that map? Why hadn't she just minded her own goddamn business for once? Always prying into things that should be left well alone! Always needing to know what secrets other people held and bring them to the surface while trying to protect her own.

 

"Don't you dare," she warned him, standing up, pre-emptively cutting off his rant. Her boots clicked on the floor as she walked. "Don't you dare start to blame me for this, Kirk. You tracked him down, you dragged him aboard your vessel and now you're gallivanting round the galaxy with him as your virtual prisoner. He didn't ask for you to swan back into his life. Especially not at a time as difficult as this one."

 

"Told you that did he?" Jim asked, and he'd meant to sound flippant and sarcastic but it came out bitter and filled with rage.

 

"No. No he didn't. He told me if he didn't feel so goddamn numb he'd have been glad to see his best friend.... Until we decided to get a look at where the hell we were going in order to take his mind off things," Carol snapped back. Her back was ramrod straight and her eyes were flaming brightly.

 

Once Jim had thought he might be in love with Carol Marcus, but a few dates had quickly helped him decide that they were the kind of people that weren't meant to be in close proximity to each other in their daily lives.

 

"We think Joanna's alive," Jim forced out through gritted teeth. Carol's eyes widened.

 

"What...?" she breathed. "Call him back! Get him in here! Tell him!"

 

"No!" Jim said forcefully then took a deep, steadying breath. "No. Because if we're wrong, it'll kill him. Don't you see? If we're wrong and she's dead and gone and there's just ruins of the Hannibal waiting for us there, then we are going to make things so much worse. I would rather he be angry at me, rather he thought I was cruel and an idiot than for him to have to lose her twice."

 

Carol regarded him for a long moment. The lights of the planets and distant stars surrounding Corinth IV shone over her face, splotches of light and colour that gave her face a sombre, purple tone.

 

"You never moved on, did you?" she asked. Jim pressed his mouth into a thin line.

 

"I've had relationships with plenty of people since Bones-"

 

"And none of them lasted and none of them were serious. You walked out that day and you pretended to all of us that you never looked back, but that's not true is it?" she asked and her voice was filled with pity. Jim couldn't take it. He turned his back to her, staring at the door that Bones had left through moments before.

 

"Me and Doctor McCoy are over. I've accepted that and I've moved on. This is not an appropriate line of conversation to be having with your commanding officer. I'm also classing this entire conversation as classified and to be spoken of with no one outside this room. Do you undestand me Doctor Marcus?" he asked, his voice hardened to steel. He heard her take a shaky breath before she sighed.

 

"Yes, Captain, I understand."

 

Jim left, feeling wrung out and tired but not wanting to return to his quarters when he would just be reminded what he didn't have by the crumpled sheets on the right side of his bed.

 

* * *

 

 

McCoy joined them on the bridge five minutes before they pulled out of warp. Jim didn't acknowledge him, though he could see Chekov sending him looks that asked how the hell they were supposed to pull this off right under McCoy's nose.

 

"Coming out of warp in... 3... 2... 1..." The darkness of space materialised before them and Jim stared at the empty space before him. Spock immediately started scanning, Uhura surreptitiously checking for any transmissions in the area.

 

Bones leaned against the console in front of him and stared at the emptiness. Jim swallowed, wondering what to say.

 

"So this is the last thing she saw," McCoy said at last. The silence on the bridge was so sharp that it seemed to shatter when he spoke. "An area of dead space without even a nebula to make it shine."

 

Jim heard Uhura draw a shaky breath, but she didn't turn, her fingertips gliding over the console continuously as she sorted through frequencies. Spock turned to him, quirking his eyebrow upwards in away that Jim knew he'd found something he needed to share. He glanced at McCoy, but the other was staring at the view in front of them and seemed unaware to everything else. Jim nodded to Spock to continue.

 

"Captain, it is as we suspected. There is no debris in the area. A space battle did not take place here," Spock reported. Some tension seemed to bleed from the crew. This was looking like it hadn't been a wasted trip.

 

"Uhura?" Jim turned in his chair to look at her. McCoy seemed to be paying attention to them again now, though he didn't take his eyes away from the star system before them.

 

"Local interplanetary transmissions mostly. There is one anomaly that I'm tracing. I think it might be a ship's engine, but if it is, it's not from a Federation vessel or one from nearby planets. If I had to wager on an origin, I'd say it was a Romulan vessel Captain," she said without looking up from the console. Her fingers came to lightly rest on her earpiece.

 

"This far from the Neutral Zone?" Sulu questioned, turning over his shoulder to look at Jim. "Something's not right about that sir."

 

"Something's not right about all of this, Mr Sulu," Jim replied, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

 

"Jim?" McCoy turned to him now. "What's this about?"

 

Jim felt his throat constrict.

 

"Captain! I've found something!" Uhura said suddenly. She got to her feet, hitting a button as she did so and causing her own console screen to appear across the viewscreen. The sound wave length had matched with something.

 

It was an ugly looking ship, a large hull and plenty of roughshod modifications to it that made it look like it was held together by sheer force of will rather than design. The base of it looked to be Orion in design however.

 

"What am I looking at?" Jim asked. McCoy was watching avidly now. Jim knew he'd guessed what was going on, even if he didn't know the ins and outs. McCoy was a scientist at heart, even if his inclinations led him towards medicine. He knew when to observe and when to press for answers.

 

"The ship is definitely Orion in origin, though it seems to have been retrofitted with various other pieces of technology from around the quadrant. Most likely when parts wore out, they just took whatever was available and modified it to fit the ship. It's old, older even than the Enterprise. It's fitted with Romulan warp technology, and possibly some Federation weaponry too. It only came up on the files because it had been logged before in another part of this system after a raid," Uhura explained. Jim licked his lips.

 

"Is this our pirate ship Uhura?" he asked. Uhura bit her lip.

 

"I think so. If we modify some of our equipment, we might be able to get a lock in which direction it travelled in. If so... we could potentially follow it," she said, looking to Spock. The First Officer nodded.

 

"Get Mr Scott on it right away. I don't want to take any chances on this. If that ship is our pirate ship then it means it's got the only accurate sensor readings on what truly happened to the Hannibal. I want that ship caught up with and I want to interrogate the people on it," he said, jumping to his feet. He couldn't sit still, not now they were finally getting somewhere.

 

"Uhura send the specifications to Mr Scott. I'm going to head down to Engineering to see if I can help," he said. He virtually ran into the turbo lift and he was surprised to find the door opened again behind him and McCoy stepped in.

 

"You came here on a lead didn't you?" McCoy asked. Jim wished that the doctor would look at him because it would make this whole conversation so much easier. As it was, he couldn't tell if McCoy was angry or relieved, couldn't tell if the hope was dragging at him or buoying him up.

 

"Spock thought there was a possibility that there was more to the Hannibal's disappearance than was officially recorded. We just... I just... We followed our noses. We didn't want to tell you just in case we got here and found nothing," Jim said, leaning against the wall of the turbo lift and trying to steady out his breathing. McCoy was stiff as a statue next to him.

 

"Starfleet higher-ups are involved in this, aren't they?" McCoy asked and Jim folded his arms.

 

"Probably," he replied.

 

"You don't have permission to do this. Christ, Jim, you've hijacked a starship. You're going to be court martialled for this," McCoy said and his eyes darted to Jim for a moment before looking back at the doors.

 

"You're family, Bones, and that means Joanna is too. As Sulu said, we'd expect the same if it happened to any one of us," he said, trying to keep emotion out of his voice and failing. McCoy put his hands into his pockets and bowed his head.

 

" _Thank you_ ," he said, his voice gruff and low. At that moment the turbo lift doors opened and Montgomery Scott hollered down the corridor for Jim to get a move on and that the circuits weren't going to solder themselves.

 

"The Command crew knows what's going on. You can ask them to fill you in on the details. I've got to help Scotty," Jim said, pushing himself off the wall and stepping out of the lift. For a moment he thought he felt the ghost of Bones' fingertips brush against his arm as though to pull him back. The hairs on the back of his neck raised on end but he didn't stop or look over his shoulder.

 

He and McCoy could talk. But first they had to find Joanna.

 

* * *

 

 

_"So, er, that drink you promised me?"_

_McCoy looked up at him before rolling his eyes. He was working from a PADD at his desk. It was the end of Gamma shift and the Sickbay was mostly working with a skeleton crew. The few medical officers on staff were at the other end of the 'bay dealing with a few cases of Tellarite pox._

_"Give me a minute Jim," McCoy said. Jim grinned and began to count in his head._

_60 caterpillars... 59 caterpillars... 58 caterpillars..._

_A week ago he'd come to the realisation that he liked Bones as more than just a friend. It had shaken him at first, not because he saw himself as heterosexual as such, but because he'd never felt anything beyond fleeting attraction towards another man before._

_45 caterpillars... 44 caterpillars..._

_But he couldn't deny that there was something deeper at the heart of his attachment to Bones. He'd always held a little crush on Bones, but he'd never thought to act on it. Their friendship was too important for that, too much weighed on Jim daily for him to be prepared to give up the only constant in his life for some quick fling._

_Then it'd happened._

_30 caterpillars... 29 caterpillars... 28 caterpillars..._

_He'd not thought much of it. He'd been stranded on a planet. Again. He'd been attacked by the native fauna. Again. He'd been injured. Again. It had all been very standard._

_But what hadn't been standard was what had happened when he'd returned._

_15 caterpillars... 14 caterpillars... 13 caterpillars..._

_McCoy hadn't cussed him out. Hadn't yelled at him. Hadn't done anything but grab his arm tightly, hauling him into a tight embrace right there on the transporter pad._

_"Thank god you're safe," McCoy had whispered, gruff and choked sounding. Jim had clapped him on the back, unsure what had set off this strange reaction from his friend._

_7 caterpillars... 6 caterpillars..._

_He'd found out from Uhura that Bones had been going out of his mind with worry. That he'd been genuinely scared that Jim wouldn't make it back this time. Apparently the situation had seemed much worse than it was from the Enterprise._

_3 caterpillars... 2 caterpillars... 1 caterpillars..._

_"Bones! Drinking time!" Jim said, purposefully projecting his voice. McCoy startled and dropped his PADD. He scowled up at Jim._

_"Did you literally just count out a minute you goddamn infant?" he asked. Jim grinned._

_"Come on, it's one drink. Ain't gonna hurt. Besides, you said if I was a good boy and took all my hyposprays without complaining you'd break out the good stuff and I'm holding you to it," Jim said, sitting down opposite McCoy and folding his arms. Bones rolled his eyes but scooped up his PADD before setting it aside. He got to his feet and brought out the 'medicinal' bourbon and two glasses, pouring them both a healthy amount._

_"What shall we drink to?" Bones asked, handing Jim the glass._

_Jim's eyes twinkled. "How about discovering new things?" he suggested. McCoy raised an eyebrow but didn't comment._

_He raised his glass and it met Jim's with a quiet clink._

_"To discovering new things."_


	3. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You think she's alive Jim?" he asked. The rest of the team suddenly seemed very busy checking each other's suits and strapping on weapons belts.
> 
> "I don't have a shred of proof to say she is, Bones, but in my gut? I believe she's alive," Jim said.

"Give me the low down, Sulu," Jim ordered as he stepped onto the bridge. He was covered in sweat and grease from engineering and felt rather disgusting. Even so, there was no time for a change of clothes. Uhura wrinkled her nose as he past but said nothing.

"The device that you and Scotty rigged has cloaked the Enterprise. Unless they see us directly, they won't know we're there. On top of that, we've managed to trace their trajectory and are headed on an intercept course. Estimated time of interception is three minutes," Sulu said, not taking his eyes off the controls. Jim nodded.

"Take us to Red Alert and get the crew battle ready," Jim ordered. At once the klaxxon sounded and Jim could hear the sounds of footfalls on the corridors outside as people quickly assumed battle positions.

The turbo lift opened to reveal McCoy. His face was grim as he stepped out onto the bridge. He took a spot near Uhura, holding onto the console near her and speaking to her quietly under the sound of the alarm. Jim couldn't spare him any further notice however, because readings were being fired at him from every crewman.

The ship came into view. A relatively ugly thing. Jim frowned when he noticed that there were no signs of power, the ship drifting aimlessly through space. There was no sign of the USS Hannibal either.

"Scanners read that the entire ship has been depressurized Captain. No signs of power. I cannot detect any life signs," Spock said. Jim scowled.

"Have they scanned us?" he asked. Spock shook his head.

"Negative, Captain. The ship appears empty," he replied. Jim didn't bother to sit in the chair. Instead he began to pace.

"Sulu, stay out of sight if possible. I don't want them to see the Enterprise and lose the element of surprise. Spock, I'm leaving you in charge and I'm going to take a small crew down to the ship to see what's happened inside," Jim ordered, folding his arms and staring at the green and silver paintwork of the marooned ship.

"We'll prepare for all eventualities. Uhura, how's your Orion?" Jim asked. Uhura's mouth quirked upwards.

"Better than yours, Captain," she said, eyes flashing. Jim gave her a tight smile. Now wasn't the time to start debating with her whether or not he was better at that particular language, especially as the one person they had both practiced with was ten years dead.

"You're in then. If there is anyone on board there, I'd prefer to try diplomacy before we have to open fire. Not that I'm not taking Giotto, mind. And Chapel as well. If there's been some kind of altercation, we may need medical staff," Jim said, frowning as he thought.

"Leave Chapel on the ship. I'll go," McCoy said, taking a step forward. Jim looked up at him, swallowing and trying not to react instinctively.

"You sure?" he asked. He wouldn't have questioned anyone else, but McCoy's daughter could be in any state on that ship. It might be her body floating around in the vacuum. It might be worse than that. McCoy was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I'm sure," he said. Jim nodded. He trusted Bones.

"Alright then. Myself, Giotto, Uhura and McCoy plus five Security officers will head across to the ship. If you don't hear from us within the hour send in everything we've got or blow the thing out of the sky. I trust you'll pick the right option Mr Spock," Jim said, turning and clapping the Vulcan on the shoulder. Spock quirked an eyebrow.

"Captain, I assure you, every effort will be made to retrieve you," he said and Jim just rolled his eyes.

"Right everyone. Suit up!"

* * *

 

The shuttle ride across to the ship was silent apart from McCoy's leg jumping up and down. Jim was piloting, pulling the shuttle in from what he assumed to be the ship's blindside. Beside him Giotto was riding co-pilot with Uhura manning the scanners. Occassionally Uhura would share a look with Giotto, glance back at McCoy, then return to her work.

"We've got a name for the ship," she announced. Jim glanced at her.

"It's a Wanderer. Or was before they cannibalised parts of other ships. It's called Chuulak," Uhura said, grimacing.

"Comforting," Jim replied. McCoy looked up at them both.

"What's it mean?" he asked, his voice sounded somewhat choked with nerves. Jim swallowed.

"It's a word they use for slow public execution. Like medieval punishments from Earth. Hung, drawn and quartered only much more emphasis on the drawing aspect," Jim replied. McCoy's hands balled into fists.

"You reckon that's what they were going round doin'?" he asked. Jim licked his lips.

"Orions are usually much more subtle, Doctor. I think it's a bluff and a threat, but it's not like you write 'executioner' on the side of your ship if you want to land it anywhere civilised to make repairs and you've actually been executing," Uhura said. Jim could feel his chest tighten as he imagined what must be going through McCoy's mind at that moment. He couldn't begin to understand the emotions he must be feeling.

"Preparing to dock," Jim said, desperate to change the subject. Uhura thankfully went silent and instead helped Jim to carefully steer their ship towards the airlock. Behind him the rest of the security team were pulling on their helmets, small hissing sounds being emitted as they started their oxygen supplies.

Once the ship was secured to the hangar, Jim got to his feet. He pulled his own helmet from overhead and secured it, strapping his phaser around his waist after he did so. McCoy was watching him, his helmet still off.

"You think she's alive Jim?" he asked. The rest of the team suddenly seemed very busy checking each other's suits and strapping on weapons belts.

"I don't have a shred of proof to say she is, Bones, but in my gut? I believe she's alive," Jim said. He realised it was true. He did believe that Joanna Treadway was alive, but he didn't know why he thought that other than he hoped that her father wouldn't have to go through all this.

"Let's go see if we can find my daughter then," McCoy said. He pulled his helmet onto his shoulders, activated the air seal and turned away so Jim couldn't see his face anymore. He knew McCoy hated space, hated non-pressurized environments even more. Anti-gravity made him sick and his fear of being stuck was almost paralyzing. And yet here he was, willingly stepping out into the black without a complaint.

Jim didn't need to give a verbal order. He just stepped into the back of the ship and waited for everyone else to join him in the air lock. He carefully controlled the environment, matching it to the ship's vacuumlike environment before opening the second airlock and gaining them access to the Chuulak's hangar bay.

The place was still orderly. The ship hadn't been in a fire fight that had knocked out main support systems. Jim was glad that there was still gravity functioning at least. The holding bay was filled with boxes and crates, scrawled on in many languages other than Federation standard.

Jim supposed it was pirate booty.

"Everyone be careful and don't go off on your own if you can help it. Uhura's downloaded the information we have on this ship onto your visors. Make sure to check regularly and mark where you've been so we don't search the same area twice. Methodical please. And remember, keep your weapons ready but set on stun. We want to talk to these pirate assholes," Jim said. He saw a few nodding heads and then slowly the security team started to break away in twos and threes.

"McCoy, you better come with me. You're not exactly great at combat," Giotto said. McCoy blinked and looked at Jim, as though he'd expected that they would stay together. Jim hadn't really put much thought into it, but Giotto was the most experienced in combat out of the away team and McCoy would be in much better hands with him than with Jim.

"Great. Me and Uhura will check out the Bridge then. You two take the port-side supply rooms," Jim ordered. McCoy's jaw tightened but then he brought up the ship schematic on his visor and Jim couldn't see his face anymore.

He drew his phaser and walked away. He wasn't going to have Bones die on a mission to save his daughter, and if that meant keeping him with Giotto, then that's what he'd do. Uhura followed him in silence, clearly not wanting to draw attention to the elephant that had stomped into the hangar bay.

The walk to the bridge was eerie. The turbolifts weren't operational, which meant that they had to climb through engineering ducts and ladders in order to get around. Uhura didn't grumble once, though she did let out a sigh when she saw yet another twenty foot ladder to scale.

"This place is a labyrinth," she said when they stopped at a new corridor to check the ship schematic again. She leaned against one side of a bulkhead that had been left open. "I mean, look. Westforth's team headed out starboard side and they've ended up doubling back on themselves by accident. It's like the ship itself has been designed to prevent others being able to board it easily."

Jim didn't like the sound of that at all.

"You don't think-"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence because at that moment the bulkhead slammed shut between them. Jim growled and tried to stop it from closing but to no avail. He was about to shout through to Uhura when he heard bootfalls behind him.

He turned to see someone in a space suit. It wasn't a Federation one. They stood at a willowy five foot ten by Jim's estimation. Most likely a woman of humanoid origin, though Jim couldn't have said for certain as the pirate's visor was polarised. His own visor was lit up like a beacon, instantly showing him the statuses of his crew all over the ship and their red alerts.

It obscured his vision long enough for the pirate to attack. He felt the fist impact with his stomach. Whoever it was, they were fast and strong. The blow knocked the air out of him and he stagged backwards. He tried to clear his head and bring up his arms to block the next flurry of blows.

Federation suits were not particularly made for combat. They were made to make sure that they didn't tear leaving someone dead in space. But his opponent's obviously was. The pirate had full range of movement and Jim realised too late that his shoulders weren't maneuverable enough to prevent a fierce kick to the head.

It was a woman then. And the style was familiar. Krav Maga was taught in Starfleet Academy, the first of the Terran martial arts to be mastered by any cadet. Not only that, but this was someone who'd recieved training in martial arts from other cultures too. The brutality of the attacks was matched by a fluidity that Jim thought might be Vulcan or Romulan.

He was getting his ass handed to him.

He tried to get himself out of the corner he was backed into. A swift counterattack after a brutal jab towards his throat, but his arm was caught and he was slammed back against the bulkhead. The weight of the pirate wasn't too much for him to throw off, but her knee against his crotch kept him still.

His visor stopped blinking, clearing for a moment and the pirate suddenly jerked away. Jim immediately dropped back into a defensive stance, wondering what had spooked the other but he saw that her body language had become more relaxed. She walked to the bulkhead controls.

"Chuulak, this is operative 325. We need the whole ship repressurised and back online. Seems like that ship that was tailing us was the Enterprise," she said, her Terran accent achingly familiar.

Jim stared at her as the lights went on. The bulkhead door sprang open and there was hissing as the ship refilled with oxygen. Uhura ran through, raising her phaser and pointing it directly at the woman. Jim reached out, putting his hand on top of it to force it down though.

Once the computer announced that the atmosphere was safe, the woman reached up, unclicking her helmet and taking it off. She shook out her long, dark hair, and put the helmet underneath her arm. Her lips were thin and her brow drawn together in a scowl.

"Uncle Jim, it's been a while," she said. Uhura looked at Jim, eyes wide.

"Joanna," Jim greeted, his voice barely above a whisper. Joanna raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, let's walk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM


End file.
